


Plans Well Made

by MellyHorror



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8223079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellyHorror/pseuds/MellyHorror
Summary: Wynonna Earp would have been happy to never set foot in Purgatory again, but they didn't call it a curse because it was fun. Alone and hurt Wynonna turns to the last person she expected to, Bobo Del Ray. But Bobo's up to something, and Wynonna isn't sure if she can trust him, or John Henry. AU. Wynonna-centric. Eventual WyDoc. Rated T. Rating may change.





	1. Chapter One - Welcome To Purgatory

**Author's Note:**

> Full Summary: Wynonna Earp was forced back to Purgatory by the curse. Everywhere she turns someone is telling her how she did them wrong and how much of a screw up she is. Alone and angry she finds herself at a bar just outside of town where she runs into Bobo Del Ray, a revenant who seems strangely familiar, and honestly seems to have some good advice. But, Wynonna can't help but wonder just what kind of plan he has, or how John Henry ties into those plans.

_A shot rang out through the darkness, echoing off the walls._

_“Daddy!” Waverly's scream pierced her ears._

_Something metal burned her hand, the smell of gun powder stuck in her nose._

_The world flipped upside._

_Wynonna fumbled blindly, unsure where she was going._

_Everything was dark, the grass beneath her fingers was cold and wet._

_Her hands met stone and she crawled up, climbing, climbing._

_And then she fell._

_And fell._

_And fell._

_And fell._

_And fell._

Wynonna jolted awake, nearly toppling off the edge of the bed, saved only by the sheets tightly tucked under the mattress wrapped snugly around her hips. Her heart beat heavy in her throat, her hands were quaking, and the room spun around her, like when you would get off of those spinning tea cup rides at the fair.

When her stomach twisted painfully she knew what was coming and clumsily untangled from the sheets, stumbling into the bathroom with just enough time to crash to her knees on the floor, yank her hair back and toss up last nights dinner into the dingy porcelain toilet. 

This three am ritual was getting old fast, and as Wynonna pressed her face against the cool porcelain she couldn't help but think of what her life would be like had she not been born an Earp. If she hadn't been born into this life nobody could possibly want.

Those thoughts swirled away as she gently pressed down the silver handle on the toilet and unsteadily got to her feet, leaning heavily against the counter as she attempted to wash her face and rinsed her mouth with the last of her mouthwash. She would need to get more.

Easing her way from the bathroom she shuffled back to the front of the room, using whatever walls and furniture were around to keep her from falling flat on her face again. She found where she'd dropped her bag the night before and picked it up gingerly, carrying it back to the bed with her. Somewhere inside between all the dirty clothes and mini bottles of booze was a small bottle of Advil and she desperately needed it.

As if creepy flashbacks, horrible falling sensations, dizziness and vomiting weren't bad enough they were swiftly followed by the worst migraines Wynonna had ever experienced, and even the Advil and drinking could barely take the edge off.

Frustrated and unable to find the bottle she dumped the contents of her bag on the bed, tossing clothes into one pile, spare changing from various countries into another, wires into a third and finally, at the bottom of her bag she found the small little blue and white bottle.

“Thank fuck.” she muttered, twisting the lid off and dumping the contents into her hand. 

One fucking pill.

Groaning she tossed it back and swallowed it, hastily shoving aside the contents of her bag before dragging the sheets back up to her throat. She doubted she would fall asleep, but laying in the bed helped, even if it felt like she was in the middle of the ocean during a hurricane on a dingy. 

She mentally made a list of the supplies she'd need soon. Mouthwash, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, lots of Advil, toilet paper. The list went on and on, and with each new thing added Wynonna found herself drifting into the delirious place between awake and asleep.

Two hours later, when the sun finally emerged from its sleep Wynonna started to piece together her plan. Her bus left at noon, she'd rather stop somewhere around here to get the things she'd need from the store than risk anything in town so she had to add the store to her daily plan. She needed food, and at the very least coffee.

Wynonna got out of the bed slowly, picking out some clothes that looked like they might be clean from her bag to take with her into the bathroom. After a quick shower, running a brush through her hair and cleaning her teeth with the meager amount of toothpaste she could squeeze out, she was headed out the door. 

She stopped at the checkout desk and turned in her key, getting directions to the nearest grocery store from the half asleep old man behind the counter. It was about a five minute walk from the hotel, and mostly empty to boot. She grabbed what she figured she'd need, making sure to grab at two bottles of Advil before leaving.

She ended up buying a second bag to carry everything she'd purchased, and now heaved both of those onto either shoulder as she made her way to the bus station, patting her pocket to make sure the ticket was still tucked inside securely.

The bus station was fifteen minutes from the store and in the short time it took her to get there the sun was blazing, making her head throb painfully, even her double tinted sunglasses didn't help. After checking the bus schedule against her ticket she found a dark place to prop herself and watch for the bus to arrive.

She'd feel fine once she got on the bus, once it got moving farther west, toward the last place on Earth she wanted to go. It was the only direction that seemed to be making this spells go fewer and farther between. She didn't like to linger on that thought, on what it must've meant, so she didn't.

At 11:30 Wynonna got on her bus, sat down in her assigned isle pressed up against the window, tossing her legs up into the empty chair next to her and her bags into the third. Not too many people would be boarding this bus, nobody ever wanted to go where this bus was going.

She was right, like she knew she would be, roughly ten people got on the bus and each had their own row. A young cute blonde sat down across from her, coffee held tightly in one hand, looking terrified but trying to hide it. Wynonna smirked, the girl should be scared. Then she scowled, she never stopped to get herself coffee.

The bus finally rumbled to life around 12, sticking around to make sure there were no last minute stragglers before pulling out of the station, heading down a two lane road. Wynonna closed her eyes, leaning her head against the window. 

The vibrations that would usually bother her seemed to make it easier to relax, at least that's what she would keep telling herself. It had nothing to do with the rapidly closing distance between her and her destination. 

The rolling wave of nausea hit her hard when they were about ten minutes away from her stop. It started as a low rolling wave and quickly shot upward. Wynonna shot out of her seat, racing toward the back of the bus, elbowing a woman out of the way as she launched into the tiny broom closet sized bathroom.

She barely had enough room to bend over and hurl into the tiny toilet, trying not to pay attention to the way everything sloshed around. She braced her hands on either side of the wall as the sudden dizzy spell consumed her. It felt like she was in the middle of the ocean again, with waves crashing down relentlessly over her head.

Wynonna knew she needed to sit down, but making it back to her seat was difficult. The bus was moving, she knew that, but she felt like her body was moving separately, and with each step she took she felt like she was about to fall off a cliff. 

It was hell, but she finally made it back to her seat, collapsing against the window heavily. The blonde with the coffee was staring at her, “That bathroom is a crime against humanity.” Wynonna mumbled, thankful she forgot her coffee. Trying to go in that bathroom was unthinkable.

The blonde raised an eyebrow, “So's being drunk in the middle of the day.” 

Wynonna rolled her eyes, sitting up slightly to stare out the window. Being drunk was her constant state, but drunk this wasn't drunk and drunk hadn't felt like this in years. This was something else, something old and powerful and downright unfair. Stupid curse. Stupid Wyatt Earp. Stupid family line.

If there was one thing she'd love to do in life it would be to go back in time in knock some sense into her ancestor before he could curse everyone in his line. Of course it wasn't possible, but oh her imagination did make it ever so satisfying.

Wynonna's thoughts trailed off when she saw the sign in the distance, fading and tacky but still standing strong. **Welcome to Purgatory. You'll never want to leave.**

Wynonna snorted, “More like you'll never be able to leave.” the blonde woman glared at her, turning so she was facing out the window and away from Wynonna, “I guess my reputation proceeds me.” she joked under her breath, settling back in her seat as the bus coasted through town. 

She braced herself as she got closer and closer to the invisible line she was waiting for the bus to cross waiting for the feeling she knew would come. The relief of the migraine, the dizziness. And it came, like a kick in the gut as the wheels of the bus crossed into the Ghost River Triangle. Power surged through her like electricity, the unsteady feeling replaced with unwavering strength. 

The Earp heir was home.

-

Wynonna hadn't bothered to tell anyone she was returning, she didn't see the point when nobody here gave a damn about her anyways. They only wanted her to shut up and stop being crazy, to send her away, to anywhere as long as it was away from the town. Away from Waverly. Away from the sane folks of Purgatory.

As if anyone who lived in a place called Purgatory could be sane. 

The bus dropped her off about an hours walk from where she needed to be, but she didn't mind. Feeling better than she had in the six weeks since she'd turned twenty seven, Wynonna set off for the Homestead at a slow place.

It was the last place Wynonna wanted to go on Earth but the only place she had left in this little town that would be hers. Gus had sent her some stuff when she turned twenty, the deed and keys to the house, and two months ago she'd sent another set of what looked like car keys with only a note that read 'from Curtis'.

It hurt, those being the only things she ever received from her Aunt in her years away, but she knew why. She knew Gus loved her, but she loved Waverly more, and she didn't have time for the crazy daughter of her run away sister.

Besides, it was hard to ignore when your niece shot her father and started all this crazy talk about demons. Wynonna knew the best thing to do was to leave, let Waverly grow up without the demons, the curse, without Wynonna's crazy and terrible behavior. 

It was what was best, so when she was off parole at 18 she took the money Gus gave her and she left. She hadn't been back since, bouncing from place to place around the US, then to Greece, Italy, Paris. Every place she could dream of, but nothing ever felt right.

Then, when she turned 27, these dreams started. Every night, dizzy spells that put her out of commission for days at a time. She was in Greece, again, when it started. After two weeks in bed she flew back to the US and started moving north, the spells got better when she traveled that way, and worse when she went south.

It didn't take a genius to figure out, but Wynonna was stubborn. She'd promised herself, Gus and her sister that she'd leave and take her crazy with her. It wasn't her fault that crazy was calling her right back. Crazy, and her Uncle Curtis' email sent two days before his death.

Purgatory might have been her home 9 years ago, but now it was just a bad memory of demons, death, shitty parole officers and bad choices, and it was calling her back, stronger than ever. She couldn't outrun it this time. No matter how hard she tried.

Everyone in town hated her to some degree, and she couldn't blame them. She was a royal fuck up who made a ton of terrible choices and threw her life away. After her father died when she was 12 and Gus sent her to St Vincents nothing had ever been the same. 

Girls talked and whispered and spread nasty rumors, filled her locker with fake blood and entrails. Guys avoided her at all possible costs, teachers and police officers mistrusted her. Judges punished her harshly, parole officers made her a repeat offender, but it was all because she was a fuck up, who was gonna believe the crazy girl that shot her own daddy?

Wynonna hadn't been back to the Homestead since that night. It didn't feel right without her daddy and Willa, it felt empty and hollow, and it looked just the same as she walked up to it now. The windows were broken, the door was busted at the frame and debris littered the floor. 

She could hear Willa's screams and shattering glass as she was pulled out the window, Waverly's crying as they ran through the night, searching for some place safe, some place the demons couldn't get. The sound of the gun hitting something hard as she tossed it in the well. Waverly's loud hyperventilating sobs as Gus ushered them into the truck and headed for the police station.

Yellow tape still surrounded evidence, piles of junk that couldn't be moved had rusted into place. The barn door was almost falling off and the sign above the bridge to their property was hanging by a nail. Wynonna took one look at the mailbox, covered in spray paint, and kicked it clean off its stand.

“Home sweet home.” Wynonna mumbled heading up to the front door with heavy feet.

It took her about two hours of sweeping just to get the floors clean, all while making a million calls to get the power turned back on. The last call ended with the man telling her Gus would have to okay it, and Wynonna hadn't heard back since, but the lights turned on so now she just had to wait.

The front door didn't shut, two of the windows were completely shattered, and everything in the place was coated in a fine layer of dust. Wynonna didn't care, no amount of dirt could be worse than the memories. At least the strange headaches were gone, the visions hopefully gone with them, and she had a free place to lay her head for awhile.

The entire house would probably need to be gutted by now, the fridge had been sitting for 9 years with the same food that was in it when she was 12, the bed in her room was a twin that had already been to short for her, and the paint was peeling off the walls from years of shitty weather.

At least she'd have something to do with her time.

Wynonna made her way through the cupboards in the kitchen, finding the stash of booze she'd hoped she would right next to some glasses. She poured the old whiskey out into one of the glasses and took a swig. It wasn't half bad, “thanks, daddy.” she whispered, raising her glass to the sky.

She figured she had about an hour to kill around here before Gus or Waverly came looking, so she decided to wander upstairs into her old room. It was her furniture, who was going to stop her from tossing it to the curb?

Grabbing the whiskey bottle and the glass she headed up the stairs and to the left where her room had been. It was still as messy as it had been that day. Ward had told her to clean it up several times that day, but Wynonna had refused to listen, she couldn't remember why now. 

She started with her clothes, filling up two trash bags easily. Most of it was still in pretty good condition so she made a note to drop those off at the nearest Goodwill bin she could find. Those things had saved her ass more times than she could count when she first left, it wouldn't hurt to pay it forward.

Next she bagged up all the extra junk she knew was hers, toys, books, CD's, binders for school all things she didn't need. She made an extra pile for all the toys that were Waverly's and moved those into her room before carrying the bags downstairs to her ever growing trash pile by the gate.

Exactly an hour and half the whiskey bottle later her phone rang. She'd been waiting for about five minutes for the call and lazily lifted it up from its position resting on her stomach to see who it was.

“Hey Gus.” 

“Why are you back Wynonna?” 

“I have a house, why not live in it?” Wynonna shot back, taking a swig of the whiskey. It didn't go down smooth with her position sprawled out on the floor, “it is mine right?”

“You know it already is, Wynonna. I just never thought you'd actually come back.” Gus sighed heavily.

“You know me, I live to disappoint.” Wynonna paused, studying the glow in the dark stars stuck to her ceiling for a few heartbeats, “Let Waves know she can come get her things out of her room. I'll even leave for an hour or two if she wants.” and then she ended the call, dropping her hand heavily back onto her stomach.

Wynonna was home, but she wasn't really sure what that meant.


	2. Chapter Two- Welcome Home Wynonna

_“Move it, psycho.”_

_A hard shove sends Wynonna sprawling toward the ground, her hands hit cement and it sucks her in like quick sand. She can't breathe, she kicks and pumps her arms. Cement fills her nose, her mouth, her lungs, she screams._

_Someone jabs a needle into her arm._

_She drops onto a hard mattress, hands secured at her sides, a feeding tube is shoved down her throat. She feels like she's drowning. She thrashes on the bed, legs flailing, wrists rubbing raw against the restraints. The florescent lights flicker above her._

_Someone jabs a needle into her arm._

_She's in the back of a police car, arms cuffed tightly behind her. Nedley's outside, speaking with her parole officer. She can't hear them, but she can see them. Their eyes are glowing red. She screams and thrashes._

_Someone jabs a needle into her arm._

_A revenant stands before her. She blinks at him, slowly. He raises his hand, nails growing into deadly points. She doesn't scream. She doesn't move. Wyatt's gun appears in her lap. “You'll never save them.” She throws it aside. The revenant starts to swing his claws toward her throat._

_Someone jabs a needle into her arm._

_Wynonna stands on the edge of the well, staring down into it. Something is moving down there, groaning. The gun is at the very bottom, glowing beside a hat. She looks up, a shadowy figure with glowing red eyes stands before her, “you're dead, Earp.” he lunges toward her, she jumps into the pit. Falling, falling, falling._

_Someone jabs needle into her arm._

_“You don't belong here, Wynonna.” Waverly spits, standing above Wynonna with her fists clenched tightly. Face red and splotchy with anger and tears, “Leave, and don't come back.”_

Wynonna sits up with a start, lurching forward on the couch, nearly toppling off of it. She's soaked in sweat, her arms are shaking, her heart racing. Her hands fly to her sides, patting down her pockets and then the floor until they wrap around the cool texture of her phone. She unlocks it slowly, fingers trembling and starts her top playlist. 

As the music fills the room she drags her knees to her chest, curling into the corner of the couch. Her hand searches for the whiskey bottle, finding it where she'd left it the night before. Trembling she lifts the bottle to her lips, swallowing down the bile rising in her throat before taking a strong swig, and another, and another. She closes her eyes as the whiskey settles warmly in her stomach.

These dreams we getting longer. Every night for the past 5 days she'd had the same exact dream. Each time it added a new horror. Tonight was Waverly, and tonight wasn't a figment. It was real, it had happened. And she'd left. She'd run far and fast and never looked back. 

Wynonna leaned forward, resting her forehead on her knees, and started counting backwards slowly from 100. Her heart calmed in her chest, the trembling in her fingers started to ease and the swirling pit in her stomach dissipated into warm whiskey burn.

When her playlist ended she finally uncurled and crawled off of the couch, shuffling carefully into the bathroom with the bottle of whiskey dangling from her finger tips. She took a long cold shower, longing for the sweeping numbness of the buzz from the whiskey. There isn't enough left for that, and she'll have to deal for now.

She always does.

After showering and getting redressed she heads outside. If the whiskey can't numb her the low temperatures will. Of course, she'd have to find a new way to numb herself soon. She's got one more window to replace. She'd gotten lucky Curtis had been working on the repairs already when he died and all of the supplies she'd needed were in the barn except for the front door.

The house would be good as new by the time spring came, followed quickly by summer. Once she figured out how to get a door back to the homestead. Using the crappy lighting from two flash lights and the porch light, Wynonna uninstalled the busted out window and installed the new one.

Her fingers kept going numb and she'd have to go inside to thaw them out, so the task took her way into the early morning. Once she was done, she tossed the old window into the dumpster Curtis had rented and started tossing the other debris into it as well. 

Old tires, old barrels, old anything that was now rusting and creating a home for small creatures that Wynonna didn't really want around. By the time 2 pm rolled around the yard was clean, the barn was cleaned out of old junk, and the clutter from the kitchen had been swept away.

Wynonna was just throwing out the last bag of trash when a truck rumbled into view. She'd been home for five days and hadn't seen anyone, outside of a particularly fuzzy run in with Sheriff Nedley telling her to get out of town and stop hurting people who'd once cared about her, so the unfamiliar truck pulling up to the property made her nervous. 

Making her way quickly back toward the house Wynonna lingered on the porch, eyeing the truck suspiciously as it rolled to a stop just inside the property line. The girl who hopped out of the passenger seat looked familiar, but Wynonna couldn't seriously accept that this was her baby sister Waverly walking toward her, or more accurately, the house.

It had been 9 years, and she knew things were going to change, but this was not the 12 year old girl who'd told her to leave and never come back. “I haven't touched anything in your room. The doors busted, so just shut it when you leave.”

Waverly brushes past her, coldly, “You shouldn't have come back, Wynonna. You don't belong here.” Waverly's words were a slap across the face, but it had hurt more the first time.

Champ Hardy jumped out of the cab of the truck, walking slowly up to the door, “Hey Wynonna...” he stammered, hovering awkwardly like he was too scared to walk past her. She took a large step back, letting him pass by. He disappeared quickly into the house, his feet pounding up the stairs.

Wynonna made her way across the lawn to the barn, disappearing inside. She couldn't watch Waverly, couldn't take her baby sister glaring at her like she was the worst person in the world. She wouldn't deal with it anymore.

She laid down on the work bench for a long while, letting the cold seep into her bones. When she heard Champ's truck start up she didn't move, listening to the sounds of it rumbling off in the distance. It was all Gus' fault that Waverly hated her.

She'd treated Wynonna like a pariah the second Waverly told her that Wynonna had shot their daddy. It had been an accident, she'd been trying to save his life. She was a kid, she'd never fired a gun. But Willa and Daddy were getting taken away, someone had to save them they were the only ones would could stop the revenants. 

She couldn't do it.

Wynonna squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears, and sat up quickly. Her head spun from the quick motion but she was used to the sensation by now. The Harley was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes, sparking in front of her just begging to be ridden.

A drink sounded damn good about now.

Wynonna started up the bike, letting it warm up as she paced around the barn trying to get some warmth back through her limbs. When she felt it had been long enough she opened the barn doors, swinging her leg over the bike and revving the engine. She'd longed to drive the Harley since her Uncle had gotten it, but she'd never even gotten to ride on the back before she left.

The grin that split across her face was completely freeing as she sped out of the barn and up the driveway, heading for the closest bar she could think of that wasn't her sisters place of employment. She'd seen the sign for the bar as she'd hiked into town, and it was close enough to the trailer park that none of the towns people who would recognize her would be there.

Cutting the engine outside she stared up at the door, nerves twisting in her stomach. She needed a drink, a mind numbingly strong one, at that. Swinging her leg off the bike she marched inside, settling on a stool at the bar and ordering a glass and a bottle of whiskey.

The bartender, a surely man with cautious blue eyes and a sour scowl, handed her both without questioning her for more than money. She slid the bills across the counter and picked up the bottle, pouring some out into the glass and tossing it back quickly.

The liquid settled warmly in her stomach, calming her nerves instantly. Fuck this stupid fucking curse. She thought bitterly, pouring herself another drink. This one she sipped slowly, head downcast to the peeling bar top. She wanted to be left alone to drink.

Fate had other plans.

“What's a pretty girl like you doing drinking alone in a bar like this?”

Wynonna lifted her head slowly, eyeballing the man beside her. He was wearing an ugly old brown fur coat that came all the way up to his strange beard with white patches that faded into the shaved sides of his head. What was left of his hair was coated in gel on top of his head and slicked back. 

“Killing demons.” she replied, slowly turning her head back to her drink. She couldn't help the bitter laughter that bubbled up out of her. 

“Are they your demons?” he asked, leaning against the bar with his hands clasped, blue eyes studying her closely.

“Does it even matter?” Wynonna shot back, “they're my responsibility.” _Even if everyone here hates me._

“Pity.” he commented, “if you ever get tired of fighting other peoples demons, you know where to find me.” 

He grabbed a bottle from the bar tender and slipped off the stool he'd been occupying, heading over to a table by the window. He slouched down in the chair across from a rather mousy looking man and drank right from the bottle. Wynonna smiled wryly at him, a man after my own heart. She thought bitterly.

She finished off the glass she'd poured and poured herself another. 

The revenants may be her curse, and the curse may have forced her back to Purgatory, but she had no reason to fight these monsters. No reason other than Daddy's reminders. And what did they matter, when she'd killed him?

She finished off the glass she'd poured and poured herself another.

It wasn't her fault he was dead, it was those revenants. They'd taken daddy and Willa and ruined her life. They'd killed them and left Wynonna to face it all. They'd been the reason she went to St. Vincents and the reason Gus had turned against her.

They were the reason that Curtis was dead, that she was back in this god awful town. They were the reason she felt like crawling out of her own skin at the thought of going into town. They were the reason she needed to be constantly drunk.

Wynonna's phone buzzed in her pocket, she picked it up and glanced at Gus' name with a blank stare. She set it down on the bar top next to her drink, watching it ring and ring and ring. When it stopped the screen went black, the phone buzzed with a new voicemail.

She finished off the glass she'd poured and poured herself another.

The ringing started up again, she ignored it. Gus called again, and again. Finally Wynonna snatched up the phone, “what?” she growled into the phone, lifting her glass to drain it again.

“They took Waverly. They took her Wynonna.” Wynonna dropped the glass on the bar top. It fell to the floor and shattered, but Wynonna was already flying out the door, “you have to get her back, Wynonna.” Wynonna hung up the phone, setting it face down on the counter.

She finished off the glass she'd poured and slammed the glass down on the counter.

-

Cold air whipped past her face as she rode toward the well. She'd never wanted to see the gun again in her life, but Waverly was in danger and she couldn't let her baby sister die. Not when she could stop them. 

The well was as dilapidated as she remembered, and she could only hope that the rope held and she didn't fall to her death before she could save Waverly. It held, though, and she made it back out with the gun, still wrapped in its pillow case. 

It was heavy in her hand, and warm like she remembered. She'd need to get more bullets, but she'd have to make due with the ones left inside from all those years ago. She wrapped the holster around her waist and tucked the gun into it snugly before getting back on the bike.

Before she could pull away from the well a black SUV pulled up beside her and a man stepped out, eyeing her wearily, “Wynonna Earp. I'd been hoping to run into you. What are you doing way out here?”

Wynonna eyed him cautiously, leaning back on the bike and crossing her arms over her chest, “reliving old childhood memories. And you just happened to run into me here how?” she asked curiously.

“I think you and I are here to do the same thing.” he answered cryptically, “I'm Deputy Marshall Dolls.”

“Well Deputy Marshall you don't have jurisdiction up here so this conversation is over.”

“I really don't think it is, Earp.” he took a step toward her and Wynonna's scowl depended, “I'm working with a joint task force to monitor certain activity. There's a lot of it around here. And somehow I'm thinking you're in the center of it.” his eyes went pointedly to the gun on her hip.

“I'm not on parole anymore or breaking the law, so you have a nice day.” 

“That you're not miss Earp, which leads me to wonder why, after being on the straight and narrow for 9 years, you decided to come back here, climb down a well and get a gun.” he shoved his jacket back to reveal his gun and bury his hands in his pockets.

If it was meant to intimidate her he had no idea exactly who Wynonna was, she rolled her eyes, “I don't think that's any of your business, Deputy. As I said, I'm not breaking the law and this conversation is over, because once again, you have no jurisdiction here.” with that she pulled away from the well and sped toward home and Waverly. 

“I'll be seeing you around, Earp!” he shouted after her.

Stupid. Fucking. Curse.

 

-

Wynonna found Waverly where she knew she would, hanging from a rope around her neck, toes brushing against a stool just barely, “Wynonna?!” Waverly struggled to yell, “Did you think to call the police?” she hissed. 

Wynonna shook her head, of course Waverly would still push this out of her head, “where are they, Waverly?”

“Look what we finally have boys, the Earp heir. Pathetic, isn't she?” Wynonna distantly recognized him as a local but didn't say anything.

“Let her go, she doesn't have anything to do with this.” Wynonna yelled, “This is between you and me, Revenant.”

“This is between us and all Earp's, Wynonna, not just you. Where's the gun?” Wynonna took a step forward, hand hovering over her hip. She couldn't bring herself to touch it, not yet. Not after what had happened.

“Let. Her. Go. Now.” Wynonna hissed angrily. Her eyes darted around for anything to use, but cleaning up the house meant that she had nothing just laying around. Nothing could kill them but the gun on her hip, the thought made her throat tight. The revenant approached Waverly, grinning as he slid his finger tips across the stool keeping her alive. 

Wynonna exhaled slowly, “The gun, girl.” he demanded again, snarling. Defeated Wynonna pushed her jacket aside to reveal peacemaker on her hip. Waverly shrieked in terror, thrashing violently enough to knock the stool down on her own.

With the revenant conveniently distracted Wynonna pulled the gun from the holster, not thinking, and fired. The bullet ripped through peacemaker and sliced through the air, landing solidly in the revenants forehead. The ground swallowed him whole.

Waverly's struggling brought Wynonna out of her stupor, she dropped the gun like it had burned her and ran for her sister, lifting her legs up and righting the stool. She undid the binds on her hands and Waverly yanked the noose from her neck, getting down off the stool in a hurry.

“Waves, you okay?” Wynonna asked softly, taking a step toward her. 

Waverly jerked back, anger burning in her brown eyes, “Don't come near me. Just stay away from me, Wynonna.” she turned and walked away as fast as she could, leaving Wynonna in the dust. Wynonna sank to the ground, drawing her knees up to her chest.

The gun glistened in the sunlight a few paces away from her, taunting her. Tears poured hot and heavy down her cheeks, her stomach churned tightly. She couldn't bring herself to move. Not for a long time. Until a black SUV rolled into her driveway and stopped.

The man in the brown coat from the bar stepped out and walked over to her, eyeing peacemaker nervously. He stopped in front of where Wynonna was curled into herself, squatting down, “I told them to let you be. You aren't a threat to us. I'm sorry they did this.”

Wynonna's eyebrows drew together, “Who are you?”

“I'm Bobo Del Ray. We should take a ride.” he offered her a hand up and she took it, following him without a fight. He stopped, motioning for her to pick up peacemaker. Once she had the gun re-holstered they continued toward the car. Bobo opened the door for Wynonna, smiling down at her warmly. The first kindness she'd seen since stepping foot in this dreadful town. She smiled back weakly before crawling into the backseat.


	3. Chapter Three: A Safe Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so sorry for the long wait. I've had to rewrite this chapter too many times to count, as my computer died and I lost everything and took awhile to replace it. So here's the next chapter, finally. I hope you enjoy it!

Wynonna sat stiffly beside her now silent companion. She hadn't known what to expect when she'd crawled into that backseat, but she'd needed to get away from the scene before her. From her sisters words. 

She didn't think anything Waverly could say would have the ability to destroy her so completely, but here she was, numb and hurt. She'd saved Waverly's life, they'd both witnessed the revenant sucked into the ground. Still Waverly had flinched away, like Wynonna herself had been the one to capture her and tie the noose around her neck.

Bobo didn't speak during the ride, didn't watch Wynonna as she battled with the images in her head, the memories drowning her. The memories she knew were tied to her companion, somehow. She'd heard her daddy talking once, about Bobo Del Ray and a plan.

He'd been telling Willa, two weeks before the attack on the homestead. She'd stumbled down for a glass of water and to get away from Waverly for a few minutes. She was tired of hearing about her imaginary friend. She found it odd that Ward would be working a deal with someone who shared Waverly's imaginary friends name, but she'd shrugged it off.

Wynonna barely registered the car coming to a stop, until Bobo was standing beside her at the open door, offering her his hand. Bobo. Bobo Del Ray. Could the imaginary friend be one and the same with her daddy's secret plan? She took it, noticing how warm it was against her freezing fingers. He took into the same bar she'd first spotted him at.

He led her to a small table by the window, motioning at the bartender in the way that made it obvious he came here a lot. A woman came toward them, two glasses and an expensive bottle of whiskey on her tray. Bethany, Wynonna realized belatedly. The girl gave her a warm smile, her lips twisting up in genuine fashion before turning to Bobo.

“He's here again. I told him to leave but...” she shrugged a little, her way of saying she was simply a barmaid and whoever he was was too much for her to deal with.

“I'll take care of it, thank you Bethany.” Bobo waved her off with a flicker of his fingers.

“So, why'd you bring me here?” she asked, once Bethany was out of earshot. Her voice was still quiet, not sure who could hear her, not sure who she wanted hearing her. She wasn't sure of anything if she was being honest.

“I thought you could use a drink.” he answered simply, reaching for the bottle and pouring them each a glass, “how are those demons treating you?”

“To a decent bottle of whiskey, it seems.” Wynonna answered, taking the offered glass from his hands, noticing the peeling black paint on his nails, “did you know who I was when you came up to the bar?” 

“Not until you looked at me. You have Wyatt's eyes.” Bobo offered, “I told them to leave you be. You have done nothing to us, and if we do nothing to you there is no reason that we cannot co-exist.”

“Other than that you're the scum of Hell.” Wynonna shot back, taking a sip of her glass. It was good whiskey, “why were you at the homestead?”

“I heard from others, of their stupid plans. They wanted to get the gun, thought I might value them. I don't. I don't have any interest in killing you, any of you. Willa and Ward were never supposed to die, it wasn't part of the plan. The deal.” Bobo offered, she scrutinized his expression, trying to figure out if he was being honest.

“And whats the plan now?” Wynonna asked, finishing her drink and pouring herself another, she couldn't read him and didn't want him to be able to read her, “Get me drunk, steal the gun yourself and kill me with it?”

“If I wanted the gun I could have taken it while you were hugging your knees.” Bobo shot back, a fair point that chilled Wynonna down to her bones, “speaking of which, you need to learn how to use that thing. It was a lucky shot, Miss Earp.”

“You were there before I shot him?” Wynonna hissed incredulously. 

“No, but one of my many gifts allowed me to...see things. It was a lucky shot.” Bobo reiterated. Wynonna scowled as Bethany came by to drop off a plate of food that hadn't been ordered along with a second bottle of the whiskey.

“You royalty or something?” she snarked, anything to get those studying blue eyes off of her.

“I know the owner. You're safe here, Wynonna, relax. Enjoy yourself.” she frowned and grabbed her now full glass, turning in her chair to eye the bar. There were two pool tables in the center of the bar and two dart boards set up near the back.

Bobo didn't seem interested in talking anymore, his attentions turning to a phone that appeared from somewhere within his ridiculous coat. Wynonna grabbed the bottle they'd started and took it with her as she headed to the pool table, circling with interest as the game went on.

It's something she picked up when she'd first left home to be on her own. Gus' money wouldn't last her forever so she got good at the hustle. Poker, pool, darts, anything she could bet on she learned until she mastered.

When the game was over she stepped up, taking a gulp of her drink, “open table?” she asked. They'd nodded and left it quickly. She played dully by herself for awhile, sloppily. When a few revenants and humans wandered over. 

Grinning she finished up the table slowly, not terrible but not good either. The first person stepped up, chalking their queue stick. She let them break, wandering over to her glass and refilling it like she had zero interest in her opponents moves.

When she one the first game it shocked everyone, a fluke obviously. The second person stepped up and Wynonna polished off her third glass. Five games later Wynonna grew bored, though the crowd had not, and slinked off back toward the table Bobo was occupying. She plunked the nearly empty whiskey bottle down on the table and slumped into a chair.

“Bored already?” he chuckled.

“No good players.” she offered up.  
“Not everyone is well versed in pool hall hustling, Miss Earp.” so he'd noticed, had anyone else? She didn't think so, everyone just thought the person ahead of them had terrible luck. 

“The music here blows.” she complained, by way of changing the subject. And maybe, just maybe she was a little drunk.

Bobo laughed, “Not giving you good dance vibes, Wynonna?”

“Not in the least.” a few minutes later the music changed and Wynonna's eyebrows rose to her hair line, “You're the owner?”

“Yes.” with a devilish grin she shot up, heading for the bar, asking for four expensive shots. The bartender glanced toward Bobo subtly who shrugged on furred shoulder and went back to his phone. The bartender started working on her shots.

She took the first shot, feeling it pool in her stomach and spread through her limbs. Grinning she took the second and third. She felt light and happy as the whiskey and the shots did their job, and after slamming the fourth shot she twisted away from the bar, losing herself in the music pumping through the speakers.

She could feel Bobo's eyes on her periodically, checking t make sure she hadn't run off or cost him more money no doubt, but other than that she felt completely free to dance and lose herself in the music. A few people came and danced with her, and lost interest when it was obvious she only wanted to dance.

And then there was the asshole cowboy. He was clearly a local, human, and handsy. Wynonna didn't mind when he came up and started dancing with her but when she moved to pull away, tired of his roaming digits, he grabbed her upper arm roughly. 

“Let me go.” she growled.

She jerked back and pushed him the opposite way, but he held fast. Panic rose in her chest. No no no. she thought frantically. Then, as quickly as it happened, his hand was gone and a solid back was in front of her, shielding her. 

“The lady said no.” her shield drawled slowly, southern accent thick. He smelled like whiskey, gun powder and cigarettes. It was a delicious combination, Wynonna's drunk brain decided. Then Bobo appeared at her side, twisting an arm around her back. 

She was pulled into the warmth of his fur coat, his dark rustic smell that made her feel strangely protected. She didn't want to linger on that, “that you for your help, John Henry.” Bobo told the man. He turned to Wynonna then, tipping his hat with a mischievous smile and headed for the door.

Bobo and Wynonna followed, he loaded her into his SUV but remained standing outside talking to John Henry. Wynonna's head felt heavy and her eye lids itched. Her body screamed for her bed-when had the sun set? She glanced at the clock on the dash and saw that it was almost one am. 

It wasn't anything new to her, being up so late, but after her early start the morning before she was ready to crawl into her makeshift bed and call it a night. She scrambled to the window by the road, rolled it down and hung out it, “If you two are done with your lovers quarrel I would appreciate a ride home, Bobo.”

“Of course, Miss Earp.” he said, giving her a mocking bow before getting into the car, pushing her aside. She slumped against her door, pulling her feet beneath her, “in the morning someone will be around to teach you the proper techniques of using a gun.”

“Why do you give a shit if I know how to shoot anyways?”

“So that if that thing is pointed at me one day it only takes one bullet to put me out of my misery.” Bobo answered her, looking out the window into the night, “believe what you may Wynonna, but I am not your enemy.”

Wynonna snorted but fell silent until the homestead came into view, “what was supposed to happen?” 

“Ward and I had a deal, he'd help break the curse and his daughters wouldn't be burdened.” Bobo answered, vaguely.

“Why take Willa?”

“He wanted to make it look like...something else. I don't know what happened that night, after Ward died. My commands were that your sister come to no harm.” Bobo revealed, then with a snap of his fingers the SUV door opened beside her and Wynonna nearly tumbled out. She hesitated, looking up at the house nervously, “My trailer park is always open to you, Wynonna, should living here become too much to bare.”

Wynonna got out of the car and made her way up to the house, slipping in and barricading the door easily before she stripped down leaving a trail of clothes behind her to her couch. She slumped down on it, falling asleep seconds after her head hit the pillow.

-

A solid but polite knocking on her door the next morning roused Wynonna out of her stupor. She was tangled in her blankets with her face smashed into a pillow. Peacemaker was on the floor beside her but she paid it no mind, barely remembering to put on a pair of underwear and a shirt before unblocking the door.

If they bothered to knock she doubted they wanted to kill her.

When she opened her door she was surprised by the strong smell of whiskey, gun powder and cigarettes. She smiled, though tiredly, at her savior from the night before, “you're who Bobo sent?” he nodded.

“Yes, Miss Earp, my name is-.”

“John Henry. I remember.” she spun on her heel, missing the annoyed look that flashed across his face, and headed toward the kitchen, “come in, or don't. I need coffee.”

His boots knocked against the hardwood as he followed her path through the house, watching from the doorway as she started up the pot of coffee and scrounged up some breakfast. Toast, with no butter or cheese. She really needed to go shopping.

She plunked herself down at the table, setting a cup of coffee across from her before adding sugar and cream to her own. John Henry crossed the small space and sat down, adding two sugars and a bit of cream to his coffee.

He didn't speak as he watched her eat, or when he trailed her though the house toward the front door, lingering there while she dressed and put on her holster, “So John Henry, what qualifies you to teach me how to shoot?”

“Well my dear, how much do you know about Doc Holliday?” he inquired innocently, stepping out onto the porch and lighting a cigarette. She watched him curiously, the way he rolled the white stick between his fingers and wrapped his lips around its end, inhaling slowly.

“Wyatt Earp's best friend, dentist, deputy marshal, died of Tuberculosis in 1887.” Wynonna rattled off, like she'd been forced to recite it more times than once.

“Also the fastest gunslinger with the sharpest eye in the old West. But good enough Miss Earp. And I am now at your disposal. Please, call me Doc.” he gave her a shallow bow with a tip of is hat. Wynonna stared at him slack jawed for a few moments before shaking herself back to reality.

“Prove it.” 

They ended up on the back of her property with the supplies Bobo had delivered with him, Doc having set up half a dozen targets. Wynonna sat back and watched as he took his shots. The first few weren't too impressive, but then he started showing off and by the end Wynonna was staring in awe at the man before her.

“Holy shit, Doc freaking Holliday.” Wynonna could barely believe it. But she did, because he'd proved it. A lot.

“Are you ready to learn how to shoot?” he asked, already sounding bored. 

Wynonna nodded. Doc stepped up beside her and watched as she nervously took the gun into her hand, it was warm as always practically thrumming with life in her hand. Doc reached around her, adjusting her grip with warm rough hands around hers.

“Now, look past the gun at the target.” he murmured in her ear, raising her arms to the right height, his fingers wrapped around hers, pushing down on the trigger. Peacemaker fired with a bang, jolting her down to the core.

The target had a hole dead center, where her bullet had ripped through. Doc stepped back, letting her go and her arm and gun dropped to her side. She gritted her teeth, raising the gun once more, aiming like Doc had and fired.

It hit the outer most ring on the target, which was something, but not good. Doc talked her through it, deep voice soft and commanding, and little by little her shots moved closer and closer to that center. Once she was able to hit close to the center time after time Doc upped the challenge.

Soon she was shooting without looking first, whirling around aiming at the target and pulling the trigger, picking it up like she'd been doing it for years. Probably all a part of the curse to keep her safe. Inheriting Wyatt's abilities. Doc seemed impressed enough, and when he finally called it quits for the day they headed back toward her house.

She tried not to think about how the gun didn't feel like it was burning her hand, instead feeling like it was always meant to be apart of her. It never glowed, like she when aimed it at the revenant, but she could feel it thrumming to life. Happy to be used. Happy to be in the heirs hand.

Wynonna was so lost in her thoughts that when she stepped onto the porch it jarred her from her reverie and Wynonna shrieked, something that would be embarrassing in another life, when she spotted the mutilated bird on her porch. Doc was to her side in a flash, steering her into the house as his sharp eyes scanned the grounds.

“This house used to be safe.” Wynonna mumbled when he came back in, having cleaned up and disposed of the bird for her, “now I've got people hanging my sister and leaving dead birds on my porch.”

Doc followed her path into the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of whiskey. Doc followed in suit, snagging the bottle, “You could always take Bobo up on the offer to live in the trailer park.” Doc shrugged, “its not as bad as one would think. His trailers are actually very nice.”

Wynonna snorted, “Yeah, pass. I need to do grocery shopping, do you need a ride anywhere? Bobo just dumped you here.” she searched around for the keys to the junky old car she'd bought days before and hadn't used since. 

“I would be much obliged if you could drop me at the trailer park. The walk back last night was enough for me.” Wynonna nodded and they headed out to her car. Doc looked like he'd rather be anywhere else than in the car, but he remained silent the entire trip.

Wynonna pulled up the gates and put the car in park, “Thank you, Doc, for teaching me how to shoot.”

“It was my pleasure, Miss Earp.” he practically purred, tipping his hat to her once more, “Bobo's trailer is that one up front. With the canopy. Mine is that one way in the back there. If you ever need anything. Have a good day.”

“You can call me Wynonna. Please.” he nodded and headed out, through the gates and into the throng of the park. Wynonna backed up, turning back towards the town and the grocery store. She made a mental list as she drove, grabbing a cart and weaving her way through the store.

People avoided her as she moved through the store, whispers of murder followed her down isles and through the checkout lane, but she plastered a fake smile on her face and dealt with it, paying for her groceries and heading for the car.

She wasn't even halfway there when someone came up behind her, too close, and she spun around pressing her knife to his throat. The man hardly flinched, hands shoved into his pockets casually, “Wynonna Earp?”

“Not if my parole officer is asking.” she snarked, pulling the knife back slightly. He seemed like he was police of some sort, certainly not working with Nedley, though. A flash of his badge proved as much, “you're out of your jurisdiction Deputy Marshall. Have a good day.”

“Miss Earp, I need to speak with you about a murder.”

Wynonna eyebrows knitted together, “What?”

“There was a murder, and some people said they had seen you around the area.”

“Really? When?” the date he rattled off sunk into her gut. The day of Curtis' funeral, “I was in Greece. Hadn't booked a flight back yet. Sorry I can't be of any help.” she turned her back to him, tucking her knife away, and headed to her car.

“And what about the attempted murder of your sister, Waverly? You aunt Gus?”

Wynonna whirled again, nostrils flaring, tears burning at her eyes, “I saved her. I had nothing to do with what happened to her.” the Deputy Marshal nodded, turning away from her and leaving the parking lot.

Wynonna felt like she might puke.

Her hands were shaking, with anger and rage and utter embarrassment. As she drove back toward the homestead she couldn't keep the quaking away. When she pulled up to the homestead her stomach dropped. The door stood open, broken in, and the windows she'd worked hard to replace broken as well.

She cried then, hot angry tears spilling down her cheeks. She came home to end the curse, to protect her family, and now she was being attacked, framed for murders she didn't commit. Because she was already a murderer, she'd already killed, why wouldn't she do it again?

Wynonna didn't stop, didn't go in to investigate, instead she jerked the car around and tore away from her home toward the trailer park. Bobo was out by a fire pit, talking with other revenants when she pulled up. He broke away quickly, making his way to the gate, curiosity piqued.

“I did not expect you to take me up on this offer.” Bobo told her.

Wynonna's face barely contained her rage, she swallowed it down, “I need a safe place. I need to feel safe.” Bobo simply nodded, motioning for the gates to roll open before he got into the passenger seat. He directed her to the back of the park to an empty trailer.

“Yours, for as long as you need it.” he pressed a key into her hand before turning and walking away, coat floating around him.

“Thank you.” she murmured, watching him go. He didn't ask what happened, didn't offer sympathy. It was what she needed. She carried everything she'd bought into the trailer, finding it clean and spacious. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but this hadn't been it.

Unpacking was mindless and easy, Wynonna moved through the trailer until she had every inch of it mapped in her head. When she was done she assured that the door was still locked securely and sat down on the edge of the surprisingly soft bed.

A wave of sleepiness rolled over her, prompting her to slide back across the bed, closing her eyes against the small amount of light peaking through the window. Sleep claimed her, swallowing her whole and drowning her in her nightmares.


	4. New Normal

_“Wynonna! Help me!” Waverly's cries filled the darkness of the night, “Wynonna please, they're going to kill me!”_

_Wynonna spun around, crazily, searching through the darkness for her sister. Waverly's cries suffocated her, and she waded forward until she fell into the dirt before the stool that Waverly's boots should have been perched on._

_The stool was knocked on its side, Waverly's neck was snapped, her head eyes staring down, “You can't save me. You're too useless. You shouldn't be the heir. Willa should be the heir. You're just a fuck up.” her mouth didn't move, her lifeless eyes didn't blink but Wynonna felt the glare and heaviness of that gaze._

_“I did my best.” she whispered, staring now at the stool before, “I tried, I'm trying.”_

_“You can't do it. You don't belong here.”_

Wynonna pitched forward, scrambling off the foot of the bed in a daze. The toilet was cold against her clammy face as she emptied her stomach, clenching painfully as she laid in a small ball at the base of it. Her fingers shook, hard tremors that spread quickly through her body. 

She hadn't had her pills since setting foot in Purgatory and the effects were obvious, as she spent most mornings curled up at the base of the toilet in her small trailer. She hadn't left it in the week that she'd been here, preferring to hide away from life.

Bobo came by a few times to check on her, and when Deputy Marshal Dolls came sniffing around Bobo sent him off in search of a warrant. Wynonna had heard the whole thing from her trailer.

“Miss Earp is one of my residents and neither of us give you permission to search the property or question my other tenants. Come back when you have a warrant. Have a good day, Deputy Marshal.” and then Bobo had sat down on the hood of a car, casual as the day was bright, and watched the deputy walk back out of the gate. Doc had come by the next day with food and a bottle of whiskey. He didn't outright say it, but he'd most likely heard her screaming that morning. In fact, he didn't say much of anything, sitting and eating with her in silence before heading back to his trailer.

When the knocking came from the front door now she wasn't all that surprised. Hauling herself to her feet she shuffled to the door, opening it to Doc standing before her. She motioned him inside and turned to go back into the bathroom.

After cleaning up her bathroom, brushing her teeth, and putting on some deodorant she headed back out to the main room of the trailer, sinking onto the couch beside Doc, “sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up.”

Doc nodded, setting his hat on the table beside them, his arm going around her shoulders and settling like a comforting presence, “I have dreams sometimes, that I'm back in that well and she's still trying to kill me. Wake up in the dark and panic, thinking I'm trapped down there again.”

“Waverly was hanging, her neck was snapped. I didn't save her. She told me I shouldn't be the heir.” Wynonna mumbled, “This happens like a lot. They called it a panic disorder, mostly just nocturnal panic, so when I have my dreams I wake up and I'm in the middle of a panic attack. Sometimes they're not bad, and other times....” she shook her head, leaning into Doc's side.

He was silent and warm, comforting just by being there with her. It was something Wynonna hadn't felt in years, “I was on medicine before I came back here...but with my record here I can't get them. No doctor believes me.” 

“Your record?” Doc drawled slowly.

“My old parole officer used to make me and other parolees run drugs for him. I got busted and it just kept happening. Kind untrustworthy now, even though they weren't my drugs. I was just the runner.” Wynonna pulled her knees up onto the couch, tucking more securely into his side.

“Wyatt used to get those.” he finally said, “he would go for a run in the middle of the night. I used to go with him sometimes, to make sure he'd make it back. It's not sure fire, but it might be something.” he rested his cheek on Wynonna's head and they lapsed into silence.

“Maybe I should go get some running clothes.” Wynonna mused, “wanna come with me to find a Walmart?” she asked the need to get out and go so strong it made her hands tremor.

“What the Hell is a Walmart?” Wynonna laughed, smacking his chest and unfolding from the couch. He looked utterly perplexed and Wynonna's giggling drifted out from her room as she changed, pulling on clothes that didn't reek of booze and vomit. Even if Doc didn't complain the wonderful clientele of Walmart just might. They drove in mostly silence, Wynonna playing music softly through the speakers. Doc didn't seem any more comfortable in the car, but he watched the world go by, staring up at the stars like he was in another time. She wondered if he was thinking about another time.

When they pulled up to the store Doc stared up at it skeptically, hands on his hips, lips pursed. Wynonna tucked her arm through his and towed him toward the store. The strange normalcy of wandering through the near empty walmart with Doc was almost comforting.

She'd never felt something so normal, not since long before her daddy starting training Willa to be the heir. They wandered the isles, Doc taking in the food choices with a mixture of disgust and intrigue. Wynonna was so amused by this she just strolled beside him, leaning heavily on the cart in front of her. 

When they made it to apparel she found two pairs of running pants, a sports bra, a shirt and a jacket. She didn't bother trying to match anything together, tossing it into the cart among some of the food and things Doc had tossed in. 

She made a beeline for the self checkout, thanking Gus for the bribe to leave town as she swiped her card and headed out without a problem. She hadn't been able to even think of getting a job since returning to Purgatory and her money was likely to run out soon.

She didn't know what she would do for work, she was the town crazy nobody here would hire her.

“You could always ask Bobo for a job.” Doc chimed in, Wynonna hadn't realize she'd been speaking out loud.

“What job could I possibly do for Bobo?” Wynonna laughed, “work on his construction crew?”

“You could work at the bar. And there is no reason you couldn't work on the construction crew. Except that you'd maybe send all of his employees back to Hell when they mouthed off and made you mad.” Doc smiled at her charmingly and she found herself smiling back.

“And what about you? What do you do for Bobo?”

Doc's eyes darkened and his smile fell, “Well, Bobo and me have a special arrangement. I do the jobs nobody else can or will do for him, in exchange for help hunting down the witch that cursed me and dumped me in that well.”

“Is that why you're hanging around with little ol me?” Wynonna asked, her teasing tone betraying none of the secret worry that that was the case.

“Bobo asked me to keep an eye out for you, yes, but that is not why I went to Walls Mart with you. You may not believe it, Wynonna, but you have many likable qualities.” Doc answered. 

“It's Walmart and I'm sure my crappy personality and screaming fits are super likable qualities.”

“Do not go selling yourself short Miss Earp.” Doc told her solemnly, the honesty in his eyes making Wynonna's nerves flutter. They pulled back into the trailer park, rolling through to the back of the park where her and Doc's trailers were hidden. 

Wynonna handed him his bags and took hers, heading for the door, “Not feeling a run tonight, but maybe tomorrow?” 

“I'd be delighted. Have a good evening, Miss Earp.” he too his hat off and gave her a half bow before heading into his own trailer. Wynonna hopped up the steps of her trailer, pulling the door shut and locking it behind her.

She stripped down in her bathroom, showering and changing into clean jeans and a long sleeved shirt. It was starting to warm up so she left her jacket in her room, put on her holster with peacemaker and made her way out of her trailer.

Bobo was easy enough to find, posted up in one of his lawn chairs picking at his nails with a knife. He grinned when he saw her and peacemaker on her hip, “Good morning Wynonna, what a pleasant surprise.” 

“I feel like you might have been expecting me.” Wynonna told him, leaning against his trailer. Bobo made a gesture that implied he was expecting her, “I need to do something. Not doing things...I came back here with a purpose. But that isn't going to make me feel any better. Demons I came to kill are the only ones keeping me afloat.”

“So you need a job?” Wynonna nodded, arms crossed tightly across her chest, “I'm always looking for a bartender, but I have a feeling you might drink me dry from behind it and for free. I'd be willing to let you anyways, and keep an open tab off the clock, if you agree to be an enforcer of sorts. Revenants are only scared so much by me, after all I can't send them back to Hell. But you and that gun of yours sure can. You'd be paid to work at the bar, and you'd get an open tag for your enforcement services.”

“Don't you already have a bar tender?”

“I do, at the biker bar. But I've recently acquired a new bar. One I'm sure your familiar with, Shorty's?” Wynonna barely hid the flinch. The news of Shorty dying had been a huge punch in the gut so soon after losing her uncle.

“My sister works there. She hates me.” Wynonna deadpanned, “along with everyone else in town.”

“Well wouldn't that just piss them off. You don't deserve to hide. They can deal or they can go sober.” Bobo shrugged. 

“You didn't even ask if I could bar tend.” Wynonna pointed out.

Bobo snorted, “you're a high functioning alcoholic at this point, Miss Earp, you and I both know you can make a few drinks.” he stood up clapping his hands in front of him, “Take it or leave it, Wynonna.”

“I'll take it.” Wynonna accepted eagerly.

“See you at 6:30.”

\- -

Wynonna hadn't been behind a bar in years, but it was easy to fall back into. Most of this crowd wanted simple things, beer or whiskey. The few complicated drinks were easy enough to remember or google. Still she felt like she'd been run over as she stumbled into her bed face first, curling her arms around her pillow.

Waverly hadn't been working that night, and she was thankful because seeing her sister while dealing with the nightmares would have been a nightmare in and of itself. She wasn't ready to put up with that.

As tired as she was when the nightmare came and her scream ripped through her throat she was wide awake and antsy. After cleaning her mouth she threw her hair into a ponytail, changed into her running clothes and stepped out the door.

Doc was waiting beside her trailer, dressed similarly. They didn't talk as they jogged toward the back of the park and over the line of the ghost river triangle. Outside of the triangle so close to the perimeter didn't bother her like she'd thought it might, but she knew getting far away was probably still not a good idea.

They ran the whole time outside of it anyways, both dragging their feet as they stumbled back to their trailers. Wynonna slumped down into one of the lounge chairs outside of Doc's trailer with her water bottle and Doc sat in the other.

She didn't feel sick anymore, her hands were shaking, and the nightmare seemed like a distant memory. She wasn't ready to sleep by any means though, so they just sat up looking at the stars and talking about the lives they wished they'd had.

Doc wanted more years with Wyatt. Wynonna wanted more years without the Earp name.  
“What did you call yourself?” Doc asked, lips pursed.

“Courtney Sutherland. I was happy, and free. I wasn't the crazy girl who killed her daddy and made up demons. I wasn't the girl who was committed. I was just a girl, traveling the world. I just got to feel normal, and then I had to come back here, and that all went away.”

“You can still have normal, Wynonna. What is stopping you from normal?”

“This curse? This town? I killed my daddy, no man is ever going to want to be with someone this fucked up.” she took a large gulp of her water, wishing for whiskey instead.

“I said it before and I'll say it again. Don't going selling yourself short, Wynonna.” Doc gave her a look that made her face heat up and then he disappeared inside of his trailer, leaving her alone with the sound of the night animals and the crackling fires in the distance.

When she got up a few hours later and crawled into bed she dreamt of a mustached man with a head of dark hair with a smile just for her. She woke up the next afternoon with a grin on her face and a skip in her step. 

She stepped into Shorty's, spotting Waverly standing at a table with some customer. “It was gonna happen someday, Wynonna, might as well be this day.” she went around the bar, dropping her purse into its hiding space and shrugged off her jacket. 

Peacemaker hung heavily against her hip, Bobo had refused to let her leave the trailer park until she had it holstered against her. It was ridiculous, because where he was sending her the demons weren't Revenants of Wyatt Earp's past, they were humans that hated her guts.

“What are you doing?” Waverly hissed as soon as she spotted her sister behind the bar.

“Uh working?” Wynonna answered, grabbing a glass and pouring a beer into it for one of the bikers that had followed her from the trailer park.

“Not here you're not.” Waverly snarled.

“Sorry baby girl, that's not up to you. Take it up with our boss.” she turned her back to her younger sister, swallowing the hurt that she felt, and asked the next person at the bar what they wanted. She didn't see her but she could hear Waverly's feet stomping across the bar as far away as she could get.

Waverly avoided the bar like the plague for the rest of the night, giving short clipped orders and disappearing until they magically appeared on the bar top. As if Wynonna wasn't standing there, she would even look at her as she rattled the orders off.

It was later in the afternoon and the crowd had died down before the nigh rush. Jay Novak, her old parole officer had been drinking himself into a stupor with Doc, who Bobo had explicitly told her not to serve, when they had both disappeared.

Since it was Waverly's table she had gone off into the bathroom to find them, only to come out a few moments later, face pale yelling for someone to help. Wynonna raced into the bathroom before anyone could get there first.

Doc was standing in the middle of the room knife drawn but clean. Her parole officer laid at his feet, in a pool of his own blood. Repent Sinners was scrawled in blood across the mirror. A man appeared beyond the words, skin blue and his white coat covered in blood. He smiled right at her, “Repent, Wynonna Earp, two hours to find forgiveness from the souls you hurt.” 

He disappeared and Wynonna turned to Doc, eyes wide, “what the fuck just happened to me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by some great headcannoning with Drew about Bobo Del Ray's meddling in the Earp girls' lives.


End file.
